Something Better
by Little Miss Lovejoy
Summary: There wasn't much to do growing up on a prairie. Aside from gossiping about her neighbors, Helen Schwartzbaum was bored. When a man with a Bible in his hands appeared on her doorstep, that was all about to change. (Story of how Helen and Tim met)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The idea came from Helen's Simpsons Mania! trading card, her bio on the back.

* * *

Growing up on a prairie, there wasn't much to do except to bale hay and other such work. However, most of the outside work was reserved for men. The women normally kept inside with the cooking and cleaning. Helen Schwartzbaum got so bored with that, though. She longed for something more exciting—a new kind of life. She kept herself busy by nosing into her neighbors' business, spreading gossip with every tidbit she heard. It was a good way to make friends, but also a good way to lose them.

She wished she could find a companion who would always be loyal to her, no matter what—who would love her for who she was and not what she did. She prayed to God every night that something better would come along for her—or _someone. _

When a young man appeared at her doorstep one day with a Bible in his hand, Helen took that as a sure sign from God. "Hello, young lady," he said with a smile. "Have you heard the news?"

"Which news?" she asked, confused. "The one about Sally and Joseph kissing in the storm cellar? Mary Sue getting married? Or do you mean the news about Mrs. Terry cheating on her husband?" She heard pretty much every type of news that went on.

Timothy chuckled. "No…The gospel news! The news of Jesus Christ our Lord!" he grinned, presenting the Bible in his hands.

Normally, Helen would shoo away people who came to their doorstep like this, upon request of her parents or out of her own annoyance, but this one was different. "Tell me more," she found herself saying dreamily, staring at the young man.

The man, named Timothy Lovejoy, blinked. "I have never gotten that one before," he muttered. He was usually shooed away when visiting homes. He regained himself shortly, however, and said, "I'd be happy to, ma'am. Why don't you let me in, and I can tell you more! Oh, the wonderful things I can tell you!"

"Please," Helen said, continuing to stare at his face. After a moment, she came back to reality and said, "Let's not go inside. I have a better place," she took Timothy's hand with a grin.

"Helen, who is at the door?" her mother called.

"No one, Mama! I sent them away! I'm going out!"

"Alright, but be back for supper!"

"Yes, ma'am," she replied and quickly pulled Timothy along with her to the barn. She started climbing up to the loft while Timothy just stood there confused. "What are you waiting for? Climb up here with me!" Timothy obeyed and sat beside Helen in the loft. "Kind of cozy, isn't it?" She scooted over closer to the man with a smile.

Timothy cleared his throat and scooted a bit away from Helen. He opened his Bible and started to read. He did not know how to teach people well without just reading to them. He had no particular sermon prepared. He had only just become a preacher not too long ago, and he had never been invited in anyone's house when appearing at their doorstep. This was new to him.

He started from the beginning of the New Testament and just read for hours, amazed that she seemed to be hanging on every word that he said. But in reality, Helen was more interested in listening to his voice and watching his lips move.

Eventually, he started to realize how late it was, and he closed his book and smiled to her. "It's getting late, and I believe you were supposed to be home for supper."

"Don't go," she whispered. Timothy raised his eyes. "Please, sir…"

"My name is Timothy," he smiled, realizing he had never introduced himself. "Reverend Timothy Lovejoy of the First Church of Springfield. And your name is…?"

Helen gasped and blushed a little. "A reverend?" she smiled. "My name is Helen Schwartzbaum."

"It's a pleasure, Miss Schwartzbaum."

"Oh, no the pleasure is all mine, sir. But would you please come back and read to me again? I want to know more." The words were spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

The reverend's lips curled into a smile. Nobody had ever wanted to listen to him. Sure, they showed up for church and sat through the services, but never were they so eager. "I will come back as soon as I can."

* * *

They agreed that when he did come, he would always come at two o'clock, and he would hide in the barn. He didn't come back as quickly as Helen had hoped. She checked the barn every day around two with no luck, until one afternoon, she discovered him in the loft. She climbed up and sat down beside him. "I thought you'd never come," she said softly.

"I came as quickly as I could, ma'am. Now, where were we?" he opened his Bible.

"Matthew 10!" Helen answered instantly.

"You remembered that?"

"Yes," she blushed. Ever since the first day he came, she had been rereading the chapters he had read her in her own Bible, hearing the words in his voice. She loved the sound of his voice; he was like her own personal angel that God had sent to her, she was sure of it.

Weeks went on, and they continued their way through the New Testament. Once wrapping up Acts, Timothy asked her if she had any questions. Helen did have one, but it had nothing to do with the Bible. Her chin was resting in her hand and she asked dreamily, "What is Springfield like?"

The reverend was caught off guard by the question. "Why do you ask that?"

Helen blushed. "I'm sorry. I know it's off topic. I just . . . I've never been to a big city."

"Well, Springfield isn't too large, really," he chuckled.

"Compared to this . . ." She looked around, "it's a whole new world. I've lived here all of my life with nothing but hay, hay, and more hay! I want something different. The city life intrigues me. Tell me about it, please, sir."

Timothy felt sympathy for the girl so he smiled and began to tell her about the town he lived in. The way she stared at him and still held on to every word he said, even though he did not believe it to be very interesting, made him blush a little. He told her about the people of Springfield, the church, the shops, the cinema. . . He told her about many things, and she was fascinated with every bit of it.

Helen's face was so bright and happy hearing all about his town. "Wow," she said. "Springfield sounds so amazing. I've never even been to see a picture show!"

"I wish I could take you sometime," the man said before he could stop himself. He blushed and cleared his throat.

Helen blushed, too, and smiled a bit sheepishly. "Timothy, there's something I must tell you. . ."

"Yes?" He looked up, curiously.

"I already know my Bible pretty well. I'm not an expert, but I certainly did not need you taking time out of your days to come teach me . . . You could've been teaching others who needed it." She looked down, apologetically.

Timothy smiled a little. "I kind of sensed that after a while. You are a very bright young woman—also very sly," he chuckled. "But the truth is, nobody ever does anything but turn me away when I go on my runs. Knowing you wanted to listen made me so happy; it gave me hope for humanity. . . It felt nice having someone listen to what I had to say."

"Oh, Timothy. . . I would always listen to what you have to say. I love the sound of your voice," she blushed, looking away. The next thing she knew, the reverend had a hand on her arm and his lips to her own. Her cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink in surprise, but she kissed him back. Her heart was beating so quickly with excitement.

When he pulled away, they stared at each a few moments. She was a young girl of nineteen, and he seemed to be nearly ten years older, but nothing could stop the burning passion inside Helen's chest. She knew this was meant to be; God had sent him to her. However, while Helen was dreaming about their future together, the reverend felt as if he had committed a crime. "I have to go," he said suddenly, standing up.

"You're just going to leave after _that_?" Helen asked.

"Yes," he said simply, climbing down the ladder. He was gone before another word could be said.


	2. Chapter 2

Helen did not see him for weeks. She was getting rather worried. Surely he would not just ditch her after that kiss . . . or would he? She kept quiet for a long time, not bothering to catch up on or spread any gossip at all. This astounded her friends and family.

"So what's new, Helen?" her mother would try to prod at dinnertime.

"I don't know," Helen would respond impassively.

Her mother would exchange worried glances with her husband. Neither of them ever approved of Helen's gossiping, but now that she was not doing it, they felt something had to be wrong.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright, Helen?"

"I'm fine. Can I be excused?"

"_May_ I," her mother corrected.

Helen sighed. "_May _I be excused?"

"Yes." When their daughter left the kitchen, her mother said, "I guess she learned nothing at that camp. Where _is_ her etiquette? You'd think after the many times she was punished, she would know better by now!"

"She got punished for not knowing what an olive fork was, honey. I don't think they were teaching her anything useful."

"What the hell is an olive fork?"

Her husband shrugged, having no idea either.

* * *

Helen went to her bedroom and grabbed her Bible, walking out the back door with it. She did not even have a photo of Timothy; all she had to remember him by was the word of God. But it wasn't anything she didn't already have before. She had always studied her Bible—if only to just pass the time away. However, she had never had the enthusiasm about it that the reverend seemed to have. It fascinated her that he had so much passion for it. She thought if anyone was going to make it to Heaven, it would definitely be that man.

As she was walking, by habit, to the barn, she heard people whispering around her. She knew they were talking about her, but she tried to ignore it. Eventually, the whispers turned into taunting towards her.

"Helen, what's the latest news?"

"Where's the gossip?"

"Did we turn too boring, or did your ears fall off from eavesdropping too much?"

There was laughter, and Helen yelled, "Shut up!" and ran the rest of the way to the barn. She climbed up the ladder to the loft and sat down. She opened the book to a random page and started reading aloud. It was not the same as when Timothy read it, but somehow it was comforting. She had her back turned to the ladder so she did not see when someone climbed up behind her.

"That is one of my favourite passages." There was that heavenly voice she loved. It startled her so much that she screamed and sent the Bible flying. Luckily, the reverend caught it in his hand.

Without turning around to face him, she said with her nose in the air, "It's about time you showed up."

Timothy was silent a moment before saying, "I'm sorry, Helen. I thought I had made a mistake."

"A _mistake_?" she turned around, confused.

"You are so young, and I am . . . well, I am not that young."

"Age shouldn't matter," she said simply.

"I realize that now. The longer I was gone, the more I realized I could not stay away from you any longer. There is just something about you, Helen. You are beautiful, enchanting, and you listen to me and hang on to my every word. That means so much to me." Helen blushed with a smile. He sat beside her and ran his fingers through her hair gently. "Can you forgive me?" he asked softly.

"I believe I can," she kissed his cheek and hugged him close to her.

Being so close made both of their hearts start to beat quickly. The reverend's hand slid to her waist and his lips pressed against hers, kissing her once again. She shivered with pleasure and excitement, kissing him back, her arms slipping around his neck. Timothy tossed the Bible aside and put his other hand on her waist as well, laying her back gently.

Helen started loosening the man's tie as his own hands slid to the buttons on the front of her dress. They pulled away from their kiss for a moment. "Is this a sin, reverend?" Helen breathed.

"Pretty much everything is a sin, but if this was the one sin that sent me to Hell, then I'm on my way, Satan," he said, marveling at her cleavage he had uncovered. He kissed each of her breasts softly, causing a tear to stream down her face. It was such a beautiful moment, and she did not want it to end.

"Oh my goodness!" Helen exclaimed. They had been lying together happily after what was the best experience in both Helen and Timothy's life, but suddenly she had realized how late it was getting. "I have to get home to supper!" She stood up, quickly getting dressed and throwing his clothes at him. "You _will_ be back again, won't you?"

"I can't stay away, my dear Helen." He got dressed himself and kissed her cheek before she ran to her house.

* * *

Later that evening after supper, when Helen was outside walking about, seeming much happier, some girls gathered around her. "You sure seem happy. Do you have some juicy gossip for us now, Helen?"

She ignored the girl and instead said, "You didn't happen to hear anything in the barn earlier, did you?"

"No . . . Should we have heard something?"

"Definitely not."

"But why do you ask?"

Helen knew she should not say a word, but part of her naturally was bursting to tell. "I had a man in the barn," she said before she could stop the words from spilling out.

"A _man_?!" the girls gasped.

Helen shushed them. "Please don't repeat that."

"What on earth did you have a man in the barn for?"

"He was just so dreamy, and I couldn't help myself!" Helen exclaimed, blushing.

"Helen!"

"Please don't tell anyone!" she pleaded.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few weeks, the whole area slowly started to find out about Helen and Timothy. The rumour started small, but it gradually got bigger. It started with a kiss but then led to sex. Those things were true, but what was new to Helen was that apparently she was pregnant, or so said the word of the gossipers.

Helen's nightmare came true when her parents barged in on her and Timothy in the barn. Luckily, they were innocently reading the Bible together at the time, but her parents still did not look happy.

Her mother pulled her by the ear down to the switch tree, and she got herself a lashing while her father drug Timothy to the house where they were to have a talk.

Helen was frightened that she would never get to see her love again, but to her surprise, her punishment was that she and Timothy must marry. She did not see how this was much of a punishment. Being forced to marry someone you love did not seem so bad. It seemed to make Timothy nervous, but he was not going to run away a second time.

Helen's parents had mixed thoughts about their new son in law for he was a preacher, which they approved of, yet he had been sneaking around with their daughter, which they did not approve of. However, when he whisked her off with him to Springfield, it iced the cake. They did not much like their daughter's new husband, but at the same time, they were glad for her to be able to move on to better things.

* * *

Driving into Springfield in the reverend's sports car, Helen was amazed at the sights of the city. She wanted to go to all of the shops and meet all of their neighbors. She was so excited. "Where do you live, Timothy?" She asked when they were at a red light.

"The house by the church. It was getting really lonely by myself so I'm glad to have someone to share it with now," he smiled over to her for a moment.

Helen faced the front again, unable to contain her smile. She had never ridden in a sports car before, either, but being with him made everything less intimidating. She couldn't wait to try out new things and see new places.

The first church service she attended at the First Church of Springfield amazed her. Nearly everyone in town attended this one church building; the pews were filled. Everyone was there to listen to her husband speak, but she knew that no one would enjoy listening to his voice as much as she did.

After the service, many came to greet the preacher's new wife. She loved getting all of the attention.

"Hey! I know you," one woman with very tall, blue hair said. "We went to camp together one year when we were kids. You were the girl who got the forks stuck in her hand!"

Helen sighed, holding up her hand, showing she still had scars. "Guilty. Kind of a cruel punishment, wasn't it?"

"Well, they have to teach you some way, I suppose."

"I suppose. To this day, I still do not know what the point of an olive fork is."

"To eat olives, of course!" the woman laughed. "My name is Marge."

"Ah, yes. I remember now. Marge Bouvier, correct?"

"Yes! That's right."

A brown headed male came over. "Marge, let's go. Being in this place long gives me the creeps."

Marge ignored him and smiled. "This is Homer, my boyfriend! Homer, this is Helen Lovejoy, the reverend's wife! They just got married."

"Oh, well congratulations and good luck," Homer laughed.

"Thank you. It's nice to meet you, Homer and Marge," Helen smiled. "I think I'm going to love it here," She smiled dreamily.

Homer laughed. "But this town is cra—" Marge elbowed him. "Crazy cool!" He corrected with a grin.

Marge shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Well, see you around!" she waved to Helen with a smile.

* * *

"Timothy," Helen said once they were home.

"Yes, Helen?"

"Your sermon was very entertaining."

"Really? The rest of the church didn't seem to think so. They're always falling asleep," he sighed.

"Don't worry about them, dear. All you can do is teach them the Word. It's their choice to listen. Just know that you will always have at least one audience member hanging on to every single thing you say."

Timothy smiled. "Thank you, Helen. It means so much to me." He hugged her tightly.

"Timothy?" she said again.

"Yes?" he smiled, kissing the top of her head.

"What if those rumours were true? What if I really am pregnant?"

He laughed. "Oh, Helen, they were just rumours. There is no way you could be—" He stopped mid sentence, realizing how foolish that statement was. "Oh," he added, quietly. His hand touched her stomach curiously with wonder, making her giggle a little. "If you are, I suppose we'll be parents," he chuckled.

"Is that okay?"

"I think you'd make a fine mother."

"And I think you'd make a fine father."

Neither of them were really ready to be parents. They had only just gotten married. They had hardly enjoyed time to themselves, aside from inside the barn at Helen's old home.

"Can you give me a tour?" she asked, suddenly excited.

"Of the house?" He chuckled.

"The house, the town, the moon . . . I'd go anywhere with you, dear."

The man smiled and took her hand in his own. "Well then, Miss, allow me to show you the world."

"And what a wonderful world it is," she smiled, looking out the window at her new town.


End file.
